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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23728681">A Beast To Be Slain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/junoprentiss/pseuds/junoprentiss'>junoprentiss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hollow Knight (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arranged Marriage, Bad Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Nonbinary Grimm (Hollow Knight), Other, Spouses to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:21:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23728681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/junoprentiss/pseuds/junoprentiss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Picking a spouse was meant to be easy.</p><p>Hornet had only just come into her adult name, but she had known long before now that she would one day carry her parents’ titles. They hadn’t let her forget that. Ruling could hardly be done on one’s own; even her godly sire required the White Lady. It was only natural a match would be set up. A spouse was needed.</p><p>“I pick the Troupe Master,” she announced.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Grimm/Hornet (Hollow Knight)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Wyrm's Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>first legit fanfic and its grimmnet bc im whipped!! be gentle n thx to all 2 people who ship this !!!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Picking a spouse was meant to be easy.</p><p>While there were several bugs awaiting her verdict, her father and mother had both already hinted at their own preferred match over the course of courtship. That left the Princess of Hallownest only needing to choose between two. She considered it an easier task than to pick from the ten that had been seeking her hand over the span of the last month. </p><p>The young mantis lord staring back at Hornet was her mother’s consideration while her father’s, a moth who spoke very little, avoided her gaze deferentially. Hornet only knew their titles.</p><p>Despite this, she knew her duties. Hornet had only just come into her adult name, but she had known long before now that she would one day carry her parents’ titles. They hadn’t let her forget that. Ruling could hardly be done on one’s own; even her godly sire required the White Lady. It was only natural a match would be set up. A spouse was needed.</p><p>For her sake and Hallownest’s.</p><p>“Anyone from this line would be a fair match,” her father patiently repeated behind her. “If you need to think further on it, We will not judge.”</p><p>He wouldn’t, she knew, but she also knew the timetable they were on. The Hollow Knight’s final molt would be any day now and Herrah wished to see her daughter wed while the queen could still do so. Resentment stirred at the thought.</p><p>Hornet steeled herself and opened her mouth to speak.</p><p>“You’ve almost missed the selection,” a low voice murmured. It was only a whisper but Hornet’s attention snapped to the speaker. Troupe Master Grimm leaned against the threshold, one claw tipped hand coaxing her elder sibling inside. The Pure Vessel ducked their head in thanks to the other Vessel before looking towards Hornet.</p><p>Hornet didn’t remember them being ordered to attend, but they silently crossed the room all the same. They took their usual spot behind the Pale King, standing tense in contrast to the relative ease of everyone else. Her father fixed them with a look before his attention settled back onto Hornet. She was still looking at Grimm.</p><p>Grimm had never been one to hide, but even if he had wanted to it would have been impossible in a place like the White Palace. He’d have been a better fit for Deepnest, dark and sinister as it was. His eyes squinted in amusement when he noticed her gaze, a smile settling on his face as he bent in a half bow before turning and moving to make his way out. </p><p>An idea hit.</p><p>Her eyes followed his steps as he walked behind the line of suitors. He entered the line.</p><p>“I pick the Troupe Master,” she announced, keenly watching the fatal second he joined her group of potentials. Her new betrothed paused but did not tense at the use of his title. </p><p><em> Did he know? </em>Paranoia curled at the base of her skull, but she ignored it and watched him turn his head to study the spider, scarlet eyes glowing even in the washed-out pale light of the White Palace. </p><p>Abruptly, she remembered their first meeting when he had seemed like something straight from her nightmares. Fretful sleep had tugged her from her room late in the night and on the path to her eldest sibling, but it was Grimm who stood in the hallways awaiting her. She had been certain her death would be at his hands in those empty corridors until he had coaxed her back to bed and sung her a sweet tone.</p><p>That old unease hit her all over without the benefit of a song to calm her.</p><p>Herrah blocked Hornet’s view of Grimm before she could figure out what his look meant. Bending down, Herrah’s six-eyed mask met Hornet’s gaze. The Queen of Deepnest’s tone brokered no argument, “You’ve misspoken, daughter.”</p><p>“I have not,” she returned briskly. Mounting dread rankled through her chitin, but a jolt of elation soon overtook it. “I have made my decision. He is it.”</p><p>“He is not part of the line-up,” her father hissed. “These women have already agreed to be your betrothed if chosen.”</p><p>“And they were not chosen,” she returned, sharpening her tone. “A last minute addition he may be, he has been added and he has been chosen.”</p><p>“And he has yet to actually agree,” Herrah pointed out.</p><p>Their eyes slid to Grimm, who looked no worse for wear despite the awkward situation. The same could not be said for Hornet’s newly rejected matches who respectfully averted their attention from the proceedings. Grimm’s gaze fell down to Hornet. She kept it.</p><p>“The Troupe Master has far too many responsibilities to agree,” her father interjected. “He would not even match his wife’s preferences.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Grimm asked, eyeing Hornet curiously. “What a mistake you’ve made if that’s the case.”</p><p>Hornet restrained an undignified snort. “He is not a man; he will fit just fine.”</p><p>“He still possesses responsibilities,” Herrah said to neatly sidestep the Pale King’s surprise. While the Wyrm recovered, she added, “And a patron to answer to."</p><p>“Grimm can answer for himself,” Hornet snapped, tired of their squabbles already. Her patience had not improved despite her stay in the White Lady's court. “Let him.”</p><p>The Pale King’s eyes darkened as he looked back at the dark bug whose gaze had never left the small spider. Grimm’s face broke into a grin a second later and he bowed deeply, a hand outstretched as if he was at the end of a performance, “As the Daughter of Hallownest wishes.”</p><p>Hornet savored the masked fury on her father’s face. She had never attempted a rebellion of this size and looking at his tense posture, she regretted her own restraint.</p><p>“Escort him out,” the Pale King ordered. It took only a second for his tone to melt into its usual neutrality, anger shuttered beneath calm arrogance. “The other suitors, as well.”</p><p>The Hollow Knight bent their head and moved towards the Troupe Master who held up a hand. His pupil halted, head bowed. Grimm looked to Hornet with a smile, “We shall be in contact, wife. I will find you when the time comes to discuss the finer points of our union.”</p><p>“Of course, Lord Husband,” she replied, mimicking the prim tone she heard among the most annoying in court. His grin widened, chuckling. He turned and began walking off before she could contemplate it any further. The Hollow Knight followed, escorting her former suitors along with them.</p><p>"Hornet," her mother beckoned. The princess moved to face her mother and began to walk over. Raising her head higher, she did not shiver as the Pale King's cold gaze burrowed deep into her chitin. Her breath only came again when she was out of the room.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Her mother waited until they were in Deepnest again before rounding on her.</p><p>Though she knew the moniker of Beast that clung to Herrah, Hornet had never feared her mother. The Queen of Deepnest loved Hornet too much for her to ever be nervous about such a thing, but she tensed all the same when half of Herrah's mask moved as if to open and dig fangs into an unlucky victim.</p><p>"What were you thinking?" her mother hissed. "Do you have any idea who you've agreed to marry?"</p><p>"I'm aware," Hornet replied. Her voice stayed steady but her hands did not. She tucked them under her cloak. "The same bug who trains my elder sibling."</p><p>"Who waits in the rafters to see if we fail," her mother shot back. "To see if we all perish so that he and his kin might eat."</p><p>"Would you accuse a Devout for being malicious when it eats?" Hornet balled her shaking hands into fists. “He has offered his aid to the Pure Vessel, is that not enough to convince you he doesn’t wish to see us fall?”</p><p>Herrah pulled back, shaking her head and looking away. Her daughter smothered the urge to reach out and apologize; the princess hated to upset her mother, but she was just as unwilling to back down on her decision. If she bent easily now, she would never be a worthy ruler.</p><p>“Do you not understand?” the Queen murmured, a leg gently curving around Hornet to tug her closer. “I will sleep soon, daughter, and no one will be able to protect you. If he decided to spirit you away, what could I do? What if he decided to hurt you?”</p><p>“I can take care of myself,” Hornet soothed, putting her hand on the leg snug around her. “It’s going to be my turn to take care of you soon. Let me start now by planning for the future.”</p><p>“He is a Higher Being.”</p><p>“So is my father. Am I not your daughter? If you could stand strong in front of him, then I can do the same.”</p><p>The queen chuckled, a low sound that echoed in the empty room of Deepnest. Hornet bit back a smile beneath her mask. Her mother fondly said, “I wonder who you got your reckless streak from.”</p><p>“Bravery sounds better than recklessness.”</p><p>“Impulsive stubbornness might be the best fit.”</p><p>“I will be fine, Mother,” Hornet assured softly. “Trust me.”</p><p>The Queen of Deepnest drew her child into a hug, sighing. Hornet buried her face in her mother’s blue shawl and tightened her grip as if that alone would convince Herrah.</p><p>Hornet pretended that it did.</p><p>She went to her room feeling numb as she considered her predicament. Her mother had Hornet’s room tucked away in the deepest part of the den. The walk was hardly calming. Pulling the drapes over the threshold, she considered the mess she had left her room in. She dismissed the irony and went to clearing stray weapons and abandoned fabric projects. The spider eyed a clump of purple fabric and tossed it onto the settee for later consideration.</p><p>With her room somewhat more presentable, she was without distraction. She groaned and collapsed on her sette. Dropping her head into her hands, she let her mind spin itself into circles as she considered her father’s private feelings and plans for the current situation. </p><p>Just when she had begun to unwind it, it tangled itself anew when she wondered about her new husband.</p><p>It was lucky for her then, that he showed up.</p><p>Red smoke obscured her vision before it was a solid black cloak doing the same. Hornet was on her feet instantly, nearly knocking into the tall bug who had begun to bend at the waist in greeting. He laughed and caught her before she stumbled, “Princess. No need to stand. You are a lady, after all.”</p><p>“Troupe Master,” she greeted, relieved the title fell out of her mouth easily. She hoped it was a sign she could weather what hell came from her choice. Or, at the very least, help her recover from <em> this </em> blunder. “It’s rude to show up unannounced. Especially in someone’s room”</p><p>“My apologies,” he said chuckled, straightening. “I thought it better to talk here than your sire’s home.”</p><p>“I suppose you’re right,” she commented noncommittally, glancing around her room. She wished she had cleaned up more thoroughly. The pile of fabric seemed particularly offensive.</p><p>It teetered on the edge of cozy and claustrophobic - though the latter feeling had been a byproduct of her own restlessness and mess. If Grimm thought poorly of it, he said nothing. Better that way, she was not opposed to letting him face her needle. She had fostered too much pride in her spider heritage to let an insult slide by.</p><p>“Why did you ask me?” he asked. Hornet snapped back to attention at his voice. He was still holding onto her arms. His grip was warm enough that it toed the line of <em> too </em>warm. Grimm released her when he noticed her staring and stood to full height. He continued, “I assume it is not for my good looks.”</p><p>“Why did you agree?” she folded her arms across her chest. “Important my birthright might be, you’ve never expressed an interest in it.”</p><p>“I’m not,” he admitted with a shrug. She sidestepped him to point to the sofa. He sank down obediently, quirking a smile when they were finally at eye-level with one another. “If you are serious about this, I will be leaving ruling to you.”</p><p>“Any bug would have,” she answered pointedly. “I’d have outranked my wife and I outrank you.”</p><p>“In title,” he amended with a smile. It grew when he saw her hand twitch.</p><p>Hornet studiously ignored the idea of shoving her needle through Grimm’s face. Certainly it would've pleased her father. She refocused the conversation. “I am serious about the marriage. I’ve chosen you and I have no intention of changing my choice.”</p><p>“And yet you’ve neglected to tell me why.”</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>“Perhaps not, but I still want to know.”</p><p>“What do you think the reason is?”</p><p>“If you were a lesser bug, I’d say it was a daughter’s rebellion,” he said after a moment of thought. He crossed one leg over the other, tapping his claws on his knee. “But I don’t think that’s it. Tempestuous you may be, but not to this degree.”</p><p>“I’m not tempestuous,” she snapped defensively then deflated at her tone. Kicking a stray strand of silk petulantly, she mumbled, “I need help.”</p><p>“<em> My </em> help?” he leaned forward. Resting his chin on his hand he prodded, “Why?”</p><p>“Your help,” she confirmed. She sat by him and smoothed her shawl out. Hooking her finger against an unruly thread, she planned her words carefully. "I've been having the same dream since I was a grub and…"</p><p>She trailed off when more words failed to come. The spider couldn't help but long for easy problems that could be solved with a thrust of her needle. Those days were over now. She knew they wouldn’t return.</p><p>He sat back in their shared seat, watching her passively. The spider looked away, detesting him for it. She'd rather be ridiculed than just watched indifferently. It was too much like the Pale King.</p><p>"It's like a dream that evaporates in the morning whenever I try to remember it. I know it's the same one but that's all I know," she eventually finished. "I just want to discover what's going on in it. If it's even a nightmare. Sometimes… sometimes it’s like I can’t tell if I’m sleeping or not when it comes to me."</p><p>"You should not need me to tell you the nature of your senses," he dismissed. “The Nightmare Heart cannot help you.”</p><p>"This has nothing to do with senses," she sneered. "Either it is the most annoyingly persistent nightmare or-"</p><p>"Or what?" he challenged, eyes bright. "If it isn't, what will you do? What will you ask of me, little Wyrm?"</p><p>"I'm a spider," she corrected curtly. Her eyes narrowed. "We haven't even deduced whether it is a nightmare or not. Do not get ahead of yourself."</p><p>The Troupe Master laughed, bringing one terribly clawed hand in a half-hearted attempt to hide the grin he wore. He shook his head and fixed her with a smile, "Did you really marry me on the off chance I might help you with this, Hornet?"</p><p>"Among other things," she admitted grudgingly. "And you agreed."</p><p>"I did."</p><p>"...Have you decided to revoke your agreement?"</p><p>"No, little spider," he crooned, standing. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it, just the ghost of a touch to remain courteous. "I think I shall stay and wed you as you've asked."</p><p>Hornet blinked, warring unease and surprise scrambling over one another in her stomach. She peered at him curiously in an attempt to ignore her fluctuating feelings, "You didn't tell me why you agreed."</p><p>"No, I didn't," he acknowledged with a grin before standing. He drew her up with him. She stepped back warily but was stopped by the grip on her hand. His other placed itself on the small of her back as if they were about to dance. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek, just as soft as the one on her hand had been, "Get some rest, wife. I think you will be needing it. Our shared stage approaches."</p><p>He disappeared in bright crimson vapor. The abrupt absence of warmth made her shiver as she wiped off her mask. She took a deep breath and sat on her bed, flopping back onto the plush covers. Hornet mentally surveyed her life up until this point, examining the mess of her own making in silence. </p><p>The Daughter of Hallownest laughed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hazy Seal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>pls be aware of the new tags - the suicidal thoughts r very brief in this chapter but that may change in later ones</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Sealing failed. </p><p>Sickness clouded the air. Hornet could taste the sickly sweetness in the back of her throat as she soared through the crossroads, thread taut in her hand.</p><p>Corpses were strewn on the ground. Bulging orange cysts broke from their deformed chitin, bulbous and corrosive. The sight rattled her but she did not stop for any of them. She knew better; had learned they could not be saved.</p><p>No one could.</p><p>It had been a bitter lesson the first time Infection ravaged her too soft carapace. Hornet didn’t forget. She discarded the memory and landed silently before the Black Egg. Charcoal vines clung to the insides of the it, draped against the sealed prison like wings. </p><p>Hornet gripped her needle tightly and walked forward. The Seals held, glowing softly in the dark chamber. Frustration warmed her shell and smothered her relief. The Dreamers held steadfast for naught. Her mother had been a wasted sacrifice.</p><p>“Pure,” she started then stopped. Hornet willed herself to say more. To offer comfort. To swear to save them. Her shoulders slouched and she bowed her head when nothing left her mouth. A spider could promise nothing. Not now.</p><p>She cast her needle and left.</p><p>The journey to the White Palace had always been arduous. Herrah’s dislike for the stag stations and tramways had been passed to her daughter, which left only the long paths down. It usually brought her a measure of comfort; she rarely had uninterrupted time to herself and the walk had always provided an opportunity.</p><p>Now, fear had twisted its way through her innards. It cloaked her in a numbness that ran all the way to the tips of her fingers. She kept the grip on her needle, but couldn’t deny the struggle of moving when she felt so disconnected.</p><p>As a distraction, she started to organize her thoughts. The Pure Vessel had failed, but the Dreamers remained. The Vessel hadn’t made any sounds when she stood in front of the Black Egg, so the Seal of Binding likely stood as well.</p><p>She turned the thoughts over in her head but failed to come up with any solutions that didn’t involve undoing all the sacrifices that had been made. The Pale King would think of something. Hornet would make sure of that.</p><p>Descending down, she placed her needle back into place and walked onto the bridge. The breath left her when she lifted her head. Her legs nearly buckled under her as her hand clutched at the fabric of her shawl desperately. As if to stop her heart from sinking to her stomach. As if it could.</p><p>The White Palace was gone.</p><p>Light had once filled the ancient basin. A soft white that Hornet had come to find comfort in when looking at her prone mother had been too much to bear. That light had disappeared, swallowed up by dark greys and blacks.</p><p>The tall spires and rounded architecture of the palace left only uneven jagged rocks in their place. A warning to stay away from the ruins. Encouragement to forget whatever had been there. </p><p>Her feet took her closer, a cry threatening to leave her throat.</p><p>Metal caught her eye just as her fury reached a fever pitch. One lone Kingsmould stood beside what had been the entrance to the White Palace. The gate was now a broken thing that no longer bore her father’s insignia. </p><p>"He's left you," she hissed to the sentry. "You guard a grave to his regrets and nothing more."</p><p>The guard didn't react, remaining in place. Hornet hated the thing. She almost wished it would have had orders to kill her; at least then she'd know her father had thought of her. But it did not move to strike.</p><p>The Wyrm had abandoned her without a thought.</p><p>She sucked in a breath and threw her needle. It sliced through armor with nary more than a pop and embedded itself into Void flesh. A quick tug of thread pulled her to the Kingsmould which staggered back from the force of her landing on it. It fixed its grip on its claw-blade and swung.</p><p>Ignoring the pain in her shoulder as metal cut through chitin, she ripped her needle out and shoved it back in. She didn’t stop pushing until it tore through flesh and spilt the other side of the creature’s armor. Pain blossomed when the Void creature collapsed and took Hornet down with it into an undignified pile of armor.</p><p>Snarling, she yanked the claw-blade out of her chitin and tossed it to the ground. She slammed her needle down into the chest of the Kingsmould. Rewarded with a satisfying crack, she repeated the gesture again. Another time. And another.</p><p>A last time before her legs gave up and she hit the ground next to the Kingsmould, her grip slack on her needle as a sob was ripped from her throat.</p><p>Herrah would sleep forever. The Hollow Knight hung alone in the empty egg. Vespa was dead. And Grimm…</p><p>Hornet wiped at the ugly tears spilling from her mask to no avail. Everyone had gone.</p><p>The Princess of Hallownest had been abandoned to a ruined Kingdom. She would be alone until the Infection took her, too.</p><p>She reached for her needle, leaning forward only to stop when a black hand grabbed her wrist. A deep voice demanded her attention, "Hornet."</p><p>Blinking, the view of the crumbling gate disappeared before her. It was replaced by a pale white light that swiftly ate at the images in her head. </p><p>Hornet was home in the White Palace. </p><p>She was standing at the edge of a railless balcony, the steep drop hidden by white clouds and glowing roots. Briefly, she wondered if she’d fall all the way to the Abyss. How long would it take for her to reach it? Would it be a painful death? Would it even be death or just a slow rot with her forsaken siblings?</p><p>“Hornet,” that deep voice spoke again, more insistent now. The owner of it tugged on her wrist until she was pulled away from the edge. She met warmth at her back, unaware that she had been freezing until it was chased away by the bug holding her close.</p><p>She came back to herself when her wrist was released though the warmth didn’t leave her personal space. Hornet turned to find narrowed scarlet eyes watching her intently. The princess couldn’t describe the look he fixed her with as anything but displeased.</p><p>Swallowing down any anxiety, she greeted, “Troupe Master.”</p><p>“What are you doing?” he asked, ignoring her attempt at pleasantries. “Should you not be home?”</p><p>“The White Palace is also my home,” she defended, but the words turned bitter in her mouth. Something in her thorax twisted at the wrongness of her statement. It prickled underneath her chitin, evading her when she focused on it.</p><p>“Hornet?” Grimm prodded but it sounded distant. </p><p>She hadn’t moved but the sense of being alone hit her hard. Why did the words sound wrong to her? It had never been her home like Deepnest, but it was still a place she considered safe. And yet. </p><p>Her home was gone. No, her home <em> would </em>be gone. Everyone would be. It felt as if her head was going to burst from inside when she tried to focus on the still fleeting pictures in her mind.</p><p>“Hornet, stop,” her husband hissed, firmly grabbing her shoulders. His voice was clear once more, present and warm but it did little to comfort her.</p><p>“I saw it,” she choked. A biting cold exploded in her head as if nails were being plunged in. Her voice went hoarse as she struggled to stand without the support of the Vessel holding her. “The Palace was gone. He left nothing! And the Kingsmould - there was one and I, Gods, I -”</p><p>“You have to stop,” he repeated, ignoring her words. “Listen to me; you must stop holding onto it.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” she cried. Orange smoke filled her mind, seeping from the Black Egg that held her sibling. The only thing left of her life and even that wasn’t something she could claim. “Where is my father? I have to see him - the Hollow Knight is going to fail!”</p><p>Her husband took a deep breath, sinking to his knees and pulling her down with him. She went easily, pain weakening the will to stand up. Even collapsed in his arms, her thoughts were scattered and desperate as she struggled to remember what she had seen. The images escaped her like water in her palms, chased away by sharp pain.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Grimm soothed above her, wings wrapping around her as she sobbed. “Let the sights go. It’s just a dream, little robin.”</p><p>“I saw it,” she echoed between fat tears. “I saw it.”</p><p>“It was only a dream,” he insisted. He ran his hand over her mask, stopping to let his thumb brush over the middle. His hold of her felt abruptly cold before his hand continued the motions. “All will be well in the end.”</p><p>He brought her closer, humming softly and rubbing circles into her back as her cries quieted into sniffles. Tucking his head on the crown of her mask, he waited until she was pulled into a forced slumber.</p><p>Grimm loathed to steal such a choice from her, but it wouldn’t do for the spider to rip herself apart. Certainly not like this. He stood, carefully scooping her up so that she was secure in his arms. A quick flash of smoke and they had disappeared from the Wyrm’s territory to Grimm’s.</p><p>Brumm stood watch as always, hitting an unpleasant note in his song when he saw his master and the sleeping princess.</p><p>Grimm quirked a grin, “My friend, no need to be startled. She’s just fine.”</p><p>“You’ve stolen a princess,” Brumm accused. ”<em> The </em>princess.”</p><p>“Now, that’s far too crass for me,” the Vessel assured. He began walking further into the tents, the bard hot on his heels. “She needed a place to recuperate.”</p><p>“Because of you?”</p><p>“Her father.”</p><p>“Mrm… does he know?”</p><p>“She wouldn’t be here if he did,” Grimm said. He took a sharp turn then another until ending up in his own tent. He placed his companion down on his bed and began pulling the covers over her. She shivered when she was no longer in his arms. Whether it was from the absence of heat or from the nightmares he didn’t know. It didn’t matter. “He’s quite the father, I dare say.”</p><p>“I thought you… erm…”</p><p>“Didn’t like him?” Grimm asked. He sat on the bed though turned to look at the bug in the doorway. With a grin, he admitted, “No worries, my friend. We don’t, Heart and Master. But, I’ll admit it’s a unique experience to see a Wyrm’s parenting style.”</p><p>“You do not approve.”</p><p>“Hollowing out thousands of children is not what I consider <em> apt parenting, </em>” the Vessel snarled before he could think better of it. Heat built in his throat, threatening to spill out and burn the tents down around him. He calmed himself a second later, gifting Brumm an easy smile, “Apologies, musician. You probably meant your statement in regards to his daughter.”</p><p>Brumm didn’t comment, fiddling with his accordion. Grimm sighed, cursing his own temper. Truly, the girl made him feel as if he were new to his position once again. Only recently molted lacking his usual facades. He hadn’t survived this long by letting Wyrms get the better of him but here he was, making a fool of himself.</p><p>He was sure he could hear an old laugh in his mind.</p><p>“I suppose his children were doomed from the start. Wyrms have never been adept at such a thing,” Grimm mused. Attention back on Hornet, he cupped the side of her mask. She leaned into his touch and fell still a moment later, nightmares temporarily abated. “To handicap one’s children… there is little else worse than that.”</p><p>“She seems perfectly capable,” Brumm muttered dryly. No doubt thinking about what glimpses he had had of the spider.</p><p>“She is a gifted bug,” Grimm agreed. “A worthy heir.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And I do not know,” the Master sighed. A headache was brewing. “To be an audience is so often thought of as an easy job; sit back and watch. But that is only easy when the show is thrilling. To stand by and allow tragedy to play before you is quite hard to stomach.”</p><p>“Even for you?” the musician asked, eyes downcast and tone guarded.</p><p>“Not as much as it had been at first,” Grimm said. “But more than it should be.”</p><p>“Then the Troupe will be witness to an interesting cycle.”</p><p>The Troupe Master laughed, a hearty noise that rolled out and spilled the space around him. He stood and sat in a spare chair next to the bed, crossing one of his legs over the other. “Yes, you shall. Their struggle and mine.”</p><p>Brumm nodded and took his leave after one more guarded glance at Grimm. Now alone except for his slumbering wife, Grimm relaxed and prepared for a night of vigil. Scarlet eyes kept keen attention on Hornet as a Seal glowed softly on her mask in the dark room.</p><p>
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</p><p>Hornet’s hand reached for her needle as soon as she opened her eyes.</p><p>Her hand met only silken sheets. She sneered softly, memories foggy beyond the humiliating experience of crying before the Higher Being she was engaged to. She knew what had caused her such distress, but the specifics and the context evaded her. Hornet blamed it on the nerve-wracking situation of being in the Troupe’s tents. And the intense need for something to drink.</p><p>“Awake so soon?”</p><p>The spider sat up, meeting bright red eyes crinkled in amusement. She was grateful when her voice came out brisk but steady, “Troupe Master.”</p><p>“You really ought to pick a different greeting,” he hummed. She heard him stand but still couldn’t make anything out besides his jewel-like eyes. “It’s awfully stiff to be addressing your husband like that.”</p><p>Relief came unexpectedly that he hadn’t dismissed the marriage upon seeing her pathetic state, but that was just one problem of several. “I’ll work on it. What am I doing here?”</p><p>“What do you remember?” he asked in return. His eyes disappeared as he glided across the room. A second later she could hear something being poured. The eyes returned to view and came closer until they were at her beside. He sat down, guiding her hand to a goblet. He waited until she hesitantly drank before speaking again, “I brought you here to recuperate.”</p><p>“I was upset,” she said, narrowing her eyes at his chuckle. Hornet was aware it was an understatement but she didn’t appreciate his humor. “About a dream.”</p><p>“Yes,” he agreed. “A dream.”</p><p>Hornet paused at his tone but continued, “It was some kind of nightmare. The King’s plan failed.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And the King had left with the White Palace in tow. Only the gate and a Kingsmould remained.”</p><p>“What about the area?”</p><p>“I...don’t remember anything besides what I told you.”</p><p>“And of what you remember, do you only remember what you told me?”</p><p>“I don't understand what you're asking," she huffed. Her claws dug into the silken sheets blanketing her. She relaxed her grip; despite her frustration, she didn’t think her husband would forgive destroying his property. A thought dawned on her. “Am I in your room? </p><p>“I’m asking if you remember what you saw,” he patiently explained, neatly sidestepping her other question. “The colors. What you did. How you felt. Do you remember any of that?”</p><p>Hornet took a deep breath and looked down at the fabric balled up in her hands. Twisting the sheets, the spider thought back. Her memories came up blank. She had been on the edge contemplating…</p><p>Her stomach turned. Grimm had been there. He had pulled her back. <em> He’d seen. </em></p><p>“Only what I told you,” she muttered hoarsely. Her nerves left her raw as all her flaws caught up to her. Even if they did get married, he’d seen too much of her for them to ever be on equal footing.</p><p>She should’ve taken that last step.</p><p>“Hornet,” Grimm softly called. She reluctantly looked back up to him. “You’re upset.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” she lied. Her voice was unconvincing to her own ears but she plowed through. “It was just a dream.”</p><p>“Perhaps we ought to be careful as to what we label dreams,” he said, mercifully allowing her defense. “It is not the Radiance who oversees what plagues you.”</p><p>“Then it’s you,” she guessed helpfully. “Not very considerate of your wife.”</p><p>“It certainly isn’t,” he hummed but the scarlet gaze left her.</p><p>Hornet watched him, wishing she had her needle. She didn’t need her father’s blood to know he was hiding something from her. Whatever it was, it set her on edge.</p><p>“It’s been a bit remiss of us to call ourselves wedded without having yet had a wedding, isn’t it?” he asked suddenly, straightening and looking back to her. “Shall we start there?”</p><p>“What?” she gawked. “That’s hardly a priority!”</p><p>“But it is something we can check off the list,” he replied with a laugh. He stood and walked away from her. A moment later, she saw a flicker of flame as he breathed a soft red flame into one of the lanterns around the room. The rest were soon alight and she spotted a suspiciously familiar pile of fabric on the end of the bed.</p><p>“Did you go into my room?” she asked judgmentally. “That’s not at all polite.”</p><p>“Ah, yes. I beg for you forgiveness,” he said without remorse, placing the fabric on her lap. “But you will be needing an outfit, won’t you?”</p><p>“And this other fabric?” she asked, pushing the purple back to see soft white and red. “It isn’t mine.”</p><p>“That would be for me. Given to me by your father’s retainer.”</p><p>“I’m not your seamstress.”</p><p>“Why, of course not,” he placated with a smile. “But you are in need of a distraction and I am in need of someone who knows the Pale Court’s customs.”</p><p>Hornet considered telling him to fuck off but nodded after a sigh. Work sounded good and he needed information lest he embarrass the both of them. “Fine. But I’ll need my needle.”</p><p>“<em> A </em>needle,” he corrected, producing the items she needed. “You’ll get your own back when I’m convinced you’re not going to stab me.”</p><p>“I haven’t given you the impression I was going to!” she protested hotly. Hornet might just use the small ones in her hands to take out those awful eyes. “You’re just being a bastard.”</p><p>“I prefer the phrase caring and cautious husband.”</p><p>She narrowed her eyes at him and pointed a needle at him. “I’ll make your outfit incredibly uncomfortable.”</p><p>“Then we shall be sharing in the pain, won’t we?” he teased. “A wonderful way for us to bond, wife.”</p><p>Hornet decided she was going to poison her husband. He laughed at her look and sat, “Have you always been so easy to rile up?”</p><p>“Yes,” she grudgingly admitted. “A trait you seem to find much amusement in.”</p><p>“I take my entertainment where it’s plentiful,” he shrugged but didn’t bother dropping his grin. As a peace offering, he steered the conversation elsewhere, “Tell me how the wedding will work.”</p><p>“It’s a simple affair,” she said, relaxing some as she brought fabric together and began a preliminary seam. She knew her measurements by heart, having been too picky for what had been provided for her at her home. “Though you are a full Higher Being, they’ll give me preference in the proceedings.”</p><p>Grimm chuckled softly. “That so?”</p><p>“I’ll enter first, give my gift and rote first, and be placed at the right side of the basin,” she explained. “You, however, will be the first to discard something of your own.”</p><p>“You said this was simple,” he accused in amusement. “What is this gift and rote I’m supposed to have?”</p><p>“Just things to symbolize our union.”</p><p>“That’s the only hint I get?”</p><p>“You’re quick. Just follow my lead,” she answered slyly. “You can handle it.”</p><p>The god chuckled, low and warming Hornet as she worked. "Is that all?"</p><p>"My father will formally bind us once our gifts are accepted," she added. "After that, the ceremony is over and we'll be wed."</p><p>"You don't sound enthused."</p><p>"It's… going to be very public," she said. "A marriage in Deepnest is fairly different in that regard."</p><p>“Is that the only difference?”</p><p>“We’d also be hunting,” she offered. “And a thread would keep us together for a full day. It’s more complicated than my father’s customs, there’s not a point to going over it.”</p><p>“Does it bother you?”</p><p>“What, marrying in his customs and not my own?” she asked dryly. Hornet shrugged. “He doesn’t look upon Deepnest favorably. I’d likely be more successful in his eyes if I cast aside that side of myself.”</p><p>“And yet you don’t,” he acknowledged, eyes gleaming. “Why is that?”</p><p>Hornet couldn’t tell if the shine in his eyes was hunger or interest. She wasn’t sure if the line was clear between the two for him. “I have no reason to. Why don’t you insist on a wedding in your customs?”</p><p>“Ah, the Troupe lacks such things,” Grimm said. “We may be full of quite a variety, but that does not make a culture. The Heart exists for a dance and nothing else.”</p><p>“Sounds boring.”</p><p>“Seems you’ve gotten more comfortable.”</p><p>Grimm grinned at her. Hornet felt her chitin heat up in embarrassment, loathing her lack of tact. If she’d known this was to be her partner, she would’ve paid more attention in the White Lady’s lessons. “I’m just tired.”</p><p>The Vessel hummed, but didn't speak again. Hornet further relaxed as she worked. Her father would no doubt send her work to his own tailors for touch-ups, but she liked the foundation she had going.</p><p>"You will not be wearing white," Grimm noted, eyeing the fabric. "Is it due to gender?"</p><p>"It's due to status," she corrected. "You will be allowed some color, but I'm his daughter."</p><p>"He cares for you greatly then."</p><p>"He cares for appearances."</p><p>"Then it's you who doesn't care for him," he surmised. “You alluded to that being the case before.”</p><p>"That's not… it's complicated."</p><p>"Would you like to talk?" he asked. The look in his eyes bordered on kind. Hornet looked away quickly but he offered, "You may take me into your confidence."</p><p>"You have already seen plenty of my issues," she rejected. "I'll not give you more to work with."</p><p>"Such a cautious little thing you are," he remarked softly. "Rather flighty, too."</p><p>"Are we just going to trade barbs for the entirety of our marriage?" she complained. She put the fabric down. "I'd sooner take my chances on my own."</p><p>"Yes, I imagine you would," he sighed. He threaded his fingers together and seemed to be thinking, "I am here to help you, Princess. As difficult as it is to see how, or to trust me, I will help."</p><p>"Why? It cannot be for me."</p><p>"I would challenge you to find anyone who does anything for solely one reason," he said. "You are certainly part of it."</p><p>"And the rest?"</p><p>"Would you believe it might be spite?" he goaded, grinning. "To merely anger that father of yours?"</p><p>"Maybe," she allowed, a soft laugh leaving her. "But I think you're too refined for that."</p><p>"Perhaps," he said, giving her a warm look. "It is partly true. I am here for selfish reasons. It is that same desire that drove me to accept your suit."</p><p>"...A selfish reason?" she asked, worry growing renewed. "You want Hallownest."</p><p>"Now, didn't you pay attention? I told you I had no interest in ruling," he chided. "My desires are more simple than that."</p><p>"... Children?" she guessed. "Other than the one for the Ritual?"</p><p>"Your creativity knows many bounds it seems," he commented in amusement. "I don't think you'll guess, but know it is not something too nefarious."</p><p>"<em> Too </em> nefarious?" she asked, bristling. Hornet deflated at his laugh and cursed herself for again for rising to his bait. "You're teasing me."</p><p>"It's easy to do," he said. "It distracts you."</p><p>"I'm plenty distracted already," she said with a gesture to the fabric. "Perhaps you should be worrying about getting my gift."</p><p>"You don't have mine yet," he pointed out.</p><p>"Of course I do," she sniffed. Hornet was proud of the gift residing in Deepnest; it would take work but she thought he’d be pleased. The Pale King certainly wouldn’t. "I am well prepared."</p><p>Grimm eyed her, humor coloring crimson just a smidge brighter. He dipped his head and stood. "Then I shall go do my part. Do not hesitate to call on me; I will hear regardless of where I am."</p><p>"Perks of marriage?"</p><p>"Perks of marriage."</p><p>When he took his leave, Hornet looked to the fabric in her hands feeling lighter than she had in a while. Perhaps he was right; everything would be alright in the end.</p><p>She supposed that’s why it all went to shit soon after.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i overestimated my writing in thinking i could do this in three chapters!! this is a pretty big undertaking for my first fic but I hope you enjoy it regardless! i don't think it will end up much longer than four chapters so hopefully we're halfway :) thank you for reading!</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Gold Webs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hornet woke to a headache. </p><p>It was a dull throb underneath her mask, similar to the sensation that said she needed it resized. However, she knew that wasn't the cause as it had been resized upon receiving her adult name. She examined it in the mirror when she got up regardless.</p><p>Tilting her head this way and that, she found no hairline cracks or small dents though the sensation persisted. Her eyes narrowed when a soft pale light glinted in the mirror, but when her gaze followed it she couldn't find it.</p><p>She was interrupted from further exploring it when the visage of her sibling appeared behind her. The spider craned her neck to look up at them as she straightened out. "Pure."</p><p>They pressed their hand to her back, fingers spread. A late afternoon greeting.</p><p>"I've overslept?" she asked. "It's not too close to evening, is it? I have no intention of keeping the Mask Maker from resting."</p><p>The Hollow Knight shook their head and pulled away. They made their way across her room, ducking so that they could leave through the threshold. Their horns bumped with a loud clack against sharp stone.</p><p>Hornet refrained from laughing at their too tall form struggling within Deepnest. The attempt failed when she realized how far they must've transversed to get to her. Teleportation could only help them so much. Unfortunately for them, the tramway remained a failure and the stags naturally shied away from the Knight.</p><p>There was a reason she went to visit them more often than they came to her. A small mercy, but not one she would deny them.</p><p>“Relax,” she chided as she followed after them. As she did, they fell into step with her and then a foot behind. It was their usual spot but she had yet to accept it with the grace her father did. “If you get caught in any webs, I’ll be sure to save you.”</p><p>The Pure Vessel chuffed, a whistling noise that rolled and twisted inside their mask. Hornet suppressed a smug grin. Laughter from them was just another victory she got more than anyone else.</p><p>“Confident you could free yourself, Vessel?” she goaded. Nimble steps took her up to the entrance webbed tunnel. Peering upwards, she hummed in thoughts. “Do I need to pull you up or can you manage it on your own?”</p><p>They joined her and looked up as well. After a moment they shook their head and stepped away from her. Hornet briefly hesitated at the thought of leaving them alone. With a shake of her head, she threw her needle and soared upwards.</p><p>Her worries were for naught, as her sibling met her at the top though webs draped over their horns in a messy fashion. She hooked her needle as high as she could to get them, but only succeeded when her sibling indulgently bent at the waist. She ignored the amused whistle that left their mask and instead turned to the entrance of their destination.</p><p>Nerves suddenly hit her as her hand retreated into her cloak to brush against her betrothal gift. Her claw traced a groove idly, though her attention was on her sibling, “Were you lying when you said this idea was alright?”</p><p>They nodded. A large hand gently nudged her forward. She scowled beneath her mask but relented and went inside. The Pure Vessel stayed at the threshold. The den was like the rest of Deepnest; dark with thin webs and white masks staring back at her.</p><p>She looked at hollow eyes and finally to the Mask Maker who was busy at work. Two hands held a brush, a third held a chisel, and his fourth was holding another mask as reference. Hornet watched quietly for a moment, admiring his craftsmanship. It’d been some time since she had the opportunity to do so.</p><p>The Mask Maker’s den had been a temporary safe haven when she was younger, with the elder bug a competent if often befuddled caretaker. When she had grown bored of merely watching him work, he had given her a chisel and spare parts. She was embarrassed to see the small masks tucked away behind his work station.</p><p>“Princess,” he greeted when she crept closer. “It has been awhile since the Gendered Child graced my den. She brings something, does she not?”</p><p>Something soft laced his tone. She ignored it and drew out the curved, black item from her shawl. The Mask Maker stopped his work and leaned over, one hand outstretched to take hold of her work.</p><p>He situated himself onto his pedestal and held it up. Lifting his own mask, he peered so closely she was certain he was cataloguing every mistaken groove and line. Her impatience won out soon enough and she bit, “Not to your liking, Mask Maker? If it’s bad just say it.”</p><p>“No such thing, Princess,” he reassured with a low pitched chuckle. He turned the black mask over and continued, “But it is bold work, Princess. Do you hide a threat within its creation?”</p><p>“Of course not,” she sniffed. “If I am to threaten someone it will be with my needle. Is that all you have to say?”</p><p>“Ah, well I am curious about this material. Strange but familiar. Did your father provide it?”</p><p>“The Pale King has little interest in my wedding,” she retorted dryly. “I collected it on my own.”</p><p>“From?” he prompted.</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>“Of course not. Apologies for the misstep,” he bent low, her husband’s mask clutched to his chest protectively. </p><p>The princess winced and offered in apology, “The Black Wyrm’s corpse rests at the kingdom’s border. It is in better shape than my father’s shell.”</p><p>When he only hummed in reply, she stepped closer to look at it, tucked safely in his hands. “Is it suitable?”</p><p>“Quite so. The tenacity of spiders is more than apparent," he allowed, handing her creation back. "Your work has improved, Princess. It will make a fine gift."</p><p>“...Will I be allowed to bring it by for polishing?”</p><p>“And touch-ups. Everyday wear will require a crafter’s touch,” he confirmed with a laugh. “You have done well, Princess, I’m sure it will please.”</p><p>“I figured,” she commented dryly, turning when her escort chuffed from the threshold. The Hollow Knight bent so they could access the tight fit of the Mask Maker’s den, looking around as if enemies lurked about. They only looked back at her when she said, “You didn’t need to come in.”</p><p>“Good day, Pale Prince,” the bug behind the princess murmured. Hornet glanced over at the reverent tone in his voice but his gaze was unsurprisingly on the Vessel. “Do you require a new mask? A touch-up, perhaps?”</p><p>The Hollow Knight shook their head, an echoey noise bouncing around inside their mask. Bending their head towards Hornet, she took the hint and showed off her crafted gift. “What do you think?”</p><p>A large hand took it from her grip so the Vessel could better examine it. Hornet watched curiously as her sibling turned the gift around before handing it back and dipping their head low in approval.</p><p>“Will he like it?”</p><p>“Does the princess fret now?” the Mask Maker asked.</p><p>Scoffing, Hornet tucked her gift beneath her cloak and studiously did not look behind her. “The princess does <em> not </em> fret. I am only curious in my sibling’s opinion; they are who know my husband best within the Pale Court.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“Come along, Pure,” Hornet ordered, ducking beneath their large arm to hop out of the spider’s den. A soft wash of cold air on her mask alerted her they had teleported to keep up with her as she disappeared into a tunnel. “I wish to see my mother before we return to the palace. Do you mind?”</p><p>They drew a firm line on the side of her horn, only pulling away when they received a hum in acknowledgment. Together, they traversed Deepnest.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Grimm itched to call off the marriage. </p><p>If he was asked why, he’d have to politely decline the reasoning that he didn’t care for Hornet. He did, of course. It’d be difficult to say otherwise at this point. </p><p>The only other reason would have been the tension in the Pale King since Grimm had been chosen. An apt reason, he supposed. The Wyrm had brought Grimm’s sister low and the Vessel doubted a repeat attempt on the Nightmare Heart was out of the question. But, that was nothing except temporary amusement to Grimm.</p><p>Strong the Wyrm was, the Nightmare Heart was durable.</p><p>No, rather the reason he was at his wit’s end was due to his hunt for a gift. </p><p>Calling it fruitless would have been an understatement; he had spent the past few days tracking down any whiff of a merchant with high quality goods. To their credit, he had purchased several of their wares once they stopped shaking enough to show them off.</p><p>Yet, he had still not managed to secure anything proper for his bride.</p><p>He crept back to his Troupe in the throes of melancholy. Grimm was not used to failure, certainly not at such an easy task as procuring an item. Far too much rested on the quality of what he brought before her; her happiness and the success of their marriage.</p><p><em> Success, then happiness </em>, something in him corrected chidingly. He ignored it.</p><p>Grimm had hoped to sneak in <em> - fitting for a Master, </em>the fire in him mocked - and go straight to his room so that he might spend a few hours thinking over his next steps. His hopes were dashed when Divine’s voice carried from inside the second he stepped into the tent.</p><p>“Ahh, Master! Back so late! You carry so many scents, surely you’ve come back with it? That precious thing for your lovely?” Divine crooned, lifting the tent flap to peer at him. The termite seemed bigger; he assumed she had found another late night paramour in his absence.</p><p>Brumm’s music quieted just a fraction. Grimm didn’t acknowledge it and offered Divine the bag of things he had gotten. “No such luck.”</p><p>“Such a shame,” she tutted, peering into the bag with one claw. “Ah, but these are such pretty things! Surely your lovely would appreciate them!”</p><p>“They do not fit her,” he dismissed, waving a hand and beginning to walk. “I’ll not give her something impractical.”</p><p>“Mrm… she is a princess,” Brumm spoke up as Grimm passed. “Perhaps her… affinity for such things is merely hidden.”</p><p>“It isn’t,” Grimm said confidently. He sighed a second later. “I never thought such a thing would be a problem. She says she already has something for our union… how has she managed to find something where I fail?”</p><p>“Master is very particular,” Divine noted. Her attempt to hide her smile behind a claw wasn’t very convincing. “He just needs to trust his nose! To track down a special scent unlike anything else, Master can do it, surely!”</p><p>“Uniqueness is not my goal,” he scoffed. “A uniquely ugly or useless gift will not endear her to me.”</p><p>“You’re trying to impress her?” Brumm questioned when Divine neglected to respond. “I… We thought you were only so driven so that the King wouldn’t end the union.”</p><p>“Ah, yes, that’s it,” Grimm answered distractedly. He curled one finger under his chin as he thought. “Perhaps I should just make something.”</p><p>“...Perhaps continue your search, Master,” Brumm mumbled, ducking his head into the red fur on his neck. “You will find something.”</p><p>“Brumm doesn’t think she’ll like your handmade gifts,” Divine tattled. When the bard and Master both let out an offended noise, Divine snickered. “A Weaver would be aghast with your work!”</p><p>“What’s wrong with my work?” he inquired, staring his subordinates down. Divine to her credit did not cow, but Brumm desperately looked as if he wanted to disappear into a hole. “No one has complained.”</p><p>“<em> We </em> appreciate the Master’s work, of course!” Divine said. The genuine fondness in her voice made Grimm soften some. “But your lovely is not one of us. Handmade seamwork to us is terribly awful stitches to her, surely.”</p><p>“Did you call my sewing awful?” Grimm asked, a hand reflexively on his chest. He didn’t deny that his work was similar to his patron’s, but it was still a far cry from patchwork. “I didn’t make those toys for the child.”</p><p>“Of course not,” the termite faux soothed. “Still, Master’s luck lies elsewhere. Her home is always an option, is it not? Surely it is! Surely it should be!”</p><p>“I have already attempted merchants in Deepnest,” he dismissed. “It certainly didn’t help that the Queen was present during my visit.”</p><p>“She doesn’t like you?”</p><p>“She trusts her daughter, but no, Herrah is not fond of me,” he sighed then paused. He leered at his Troupe, “Why aren’t you two working? I recall adjustments needing to be made for the show.”</p><p>“Rehearsal went perfect,” Brumm defended. “As did the last shows.”</p><p>"The light was half an inch too far to the right."</p><p>"So persnickety," Divine tutted. "If we move it you'll complain it needs to be more left!"</p><p>The bickering that followed was light, almost aimless in the face of the days to come. It left the Troupe at ease, each member relatively untroubled when they finally departed for bed.</p><p>Only Grimm stayed awake, curving his claw beneath his child's chin. His humming filled the tent, languid and contemplative. He had much to do, but his worries had finally abated until he, too, fell into a deep slumber.</p><p>It was a relief when bright red flames took shape to offer an idea.</p><hr/><p>The ceremony was supposed to go off without a hitch.</p><p>However, Hornet was already at her limit. She had sewn all the pieces for her dress days ago, laid them out separately with the plan to join them together the night before her wedding. Her dress would be a simple but fine purple fabric with a simple white lining on the inside. Perhaps some lace at the end if she could muster the energy for it.</p><p>However, that plan had been dashed when she returned to the White Palace to find her dress had been sent to a tailor. Whether it was her mother or her father who did it, her anger had been stoked nonetheless.</p><p>Hornet’s ire continued to mount on the day of her marriage. She was woken up early in the morning and presented with her finished garment. What had been once light and simple was now heavy and laden with detail.</p><p>The soft fabric remained purple, no doubt as a compromise, but that was the only thing that remained the same. It retained the same basic cut of her usual shawl while a loosely pleated second layer had been added on top. The layer stopped just above her abdomen. </p><p>Upon closer examination, she could see the kind of embroidery she favored at the bottom of both layers. Lifting the purple fabric up revealed it was the petticoat that actually contained the most offending part of the outfit. Bright red flowers filled up the bottom of the dress like a particularly angry set of Grimmkin.</p><p>Hornet hated it.</p><p>“I can’t move around in this,” she near hissed as a handmaiden helped her dress. Hornet had thought the fabric was merely just heavy, but she had quickly ascertained it was, in fact, just far too many layers. “They’ve made me exempt from my own wedding with this monstrosity.”</p><p>“It looks nice,” her helper meekly replied, but went silent at Hornet’s sharp look.</p><p>Another tug had the petticoat finally settling like a beast brought low. Hornet smoothed out a small crease and stared down at it. The princess grudgingly admitted that the petticoat <em> did </em>look nice but the metal hoop was far too heavy for her to enjoy the sight. That and the wide, distracting band at her waist that kept her from bending too far.</p><p>Despite her gripes, she knew the bug who had been given the job had been smart about it. The tulle fabric that made up her petticoat was far too thin for something like this usually, but multiple layers and a particularly thick style saw that it worked. </p><p>The bottom of each layer held a collection of meticulously picked and sewn flowers. They looked soft and had yet to be damaged by being worn by a none too careful spider. She was impressed. Unenthusiastically so. </p><p>"The dress, please." She took a deep breath as the other bug left her side and came back with the gown. Hornet tensed upon sight of it but placed it on.</p><p>It went on smoothly, something Hornet found annoying. If it had snagged or torn, perhaps then she could've read it as a sign and canceled the engagement. The world offered up no signs, even as her handmaiden left to give her privacy.</p><p>Hornet carefully placed thin jewelry on. It was spider silk colored gold, her one touch of Deepnest in the whole wedding. It draped onto the fabric, gleaming from the lumafly lanterns that hung overhead. She took a deep breath and enjoyed her respite from all the action the day had brought about.</p><p>It was a short-lived break as her sibling entered in soon after. They gave her a once-over before knocking their mask against hers. She was thankful for the comfort but couldn’t find her voice to thank them as they led her to the oratory. </p><p>The oratory had always been large enough to make Hornet feel small. Now was no exception. It would be hard for it to do anything else when enormous windows bracketed the walls along with rows of seats that circled the center of the room.</p><p>It felt like walking into the colosseum.</p><p>Her partner was at the other entrance, directly opposite to her own. He gifted her a smile when he caught her eye. She ignored it and took in his outfit. It was not the one she’d started for him.</p><p>As if their wedding wasn’t already a scandal, he’d worn the wrong color.</p><p>It was a nice outfit, though different from his usual wear. Long sleeves that puffed at the ends with the customary fringe of his wings and dark fabric at his hips similarly puffed out to an interesting bell shape. Only the transparent train to the bottom half of his skirt resembled what he should have been wearing, though she was glad to see he had received her colored silk. It was only a simple chain that hung at his thigh and wrapped around three times, but she appreciated his wearing it nonetheless. </p><p>Still, the fact he was supposed to be ivory clad did not escape her. Had she understated the importance of him wearing white? Had he understood and merely decided to piss off the Pale Court? Exasperation curled in her throat as she began walking forward, matching his pace and steps. She resented he did not look as uncomfortable as she was, her temperature swiftly leaving a comfortable range to far too warm.</p><p>Resisting the urge to tug at the cowl of her dress for some cool air, she came to a stop at the center in time with the Troupe Master. A quick glance to her left revealed the bugs she had handpicked to come. Her mother, of course, the Hive Queen and her knight, and the White Lady. The Pale King sat with them, of course, but that was a given despite Hornet’s short list. </p><p>The rest of the seats that were filled were a mix of Deepnest - save the Mask Maker and Midwife who both seemed uneasy in such crowds - and Hive bugs, with just enough of the Pale Court present for Hornet to notice.</p><p>Grimm’s list of guests was, unsurprisingly, only those of his Troupe. It was a smaller number than she expected, but mitigated by the fact that he had chosen his bard as his second. The Pure Vessel was her own second, standing at her right silently.</p><p>A small basin of dark shimmering liquid stood between the couple, slightly to their left in front of Hornet’s chosens. Her father would have the best view of the ceremony.</p><p>“You look nice,” Grimm murmured after she had finished assessing all the guests. “It’s elaborate.”</p><p>“You look the part of a scandal,” she returned flatly. “This is not what I gave you.”</p><p>“There were some complications. Still, no need to be so unhappy,” he said. “We’re about to be married.”</p><p>“Despite your best efforts.”</p><p>The Troupe Master chucked but she only sighed and held her hand out to the Hollow Knight. They bent their head and offered her a darkly colored box. It had been well oiled with delicate designs covering the expanse of it. </p><p>She turned back to face Grimm, opening the box to reveal the mask that lay within it. Those fit on her and most of the denizens of Hallownest were always white and smooth; that which laid on deep red silk fabric was a heart-shaped, pitch-black mask with a grooved texture. It would cover the white of his face, only it had four more eyes than Grimm actually possessed and was split in the middle. </p><p>He smiled slightly as she presented it, mirth swimming in a sea of crimson. Her gift was a declaration that he was both an outsider and now one of Deepnest, though when she spoke she said, “For you, Troupe Master and Vessel for the Nightmare Heart, I bestow a mask made from the fallen black Wyrm. No other has had a claw in its construction beyond me, heir to the very King that slayed this Wyrm. With it, I swear to bring you victory in all respects and an oath of loyalty. I will be your vanguard and protector so long as I draw breath.”</p><p>“I accept your gift and suit graciously.” Her partner took the box, lifting up the mask to inspect it. His eyes crinkled at the corners, pleasure softening him until Hornet warmed in a much different way at the look. He placed the mask back and closed it, handing it to Brumm in exchange for his own box. The Vessel faced Hornet, smile smaller now, and presented his gift.</p><p>The box in his hand was predictably pitch black with red accents mimicking the dancing rose flames of the Troupe. As he opened it, however, it became apparent that is where the Troupe aesthetics stopped. Inside was a plush white cushion that held half a charm. Unfinished. Hornet frowned beneath her mask in confusion but took his offering into her hands.</p><p>The Troupe Master began. “For you, Hornet of Hallownest, borne of Beast and Wyrm, I offer the first half of our own Kingsoul. With it, I hope you accept my promise to always return to your side no matter where the lantern calls me and to watch over your ascension. The Heart and I gladly accept a binding to you, to act as your shield during your transition and light to illuminate and guide you on your chosen path.”</p><p>Hornet thumbed the fragment curiously as he spoke. It was soft red, almost pink like the brightest parts of his flame and just as warm as his hands. His half, the left charm piece, was more similar to the mask she’d given him than in any resemblance to him. Three eyes partially obstructed by what seemed to be in imitation of his wings and the classic line running down his face. Turning it around between her fingers revealed it was without flaws or hesitation marks; he had not made it by normal means. The princess only paused when he mentioned ascension.</p><p>She thought she heard Grimm laugh but when she glanced, his gaze was still intent on her as she considered his gift. Straightening, she placed it back into the box and handed it to her sibling so she could prepare for the next step. “I accept your gift and suit graciously.” </p><p>From her cloak came a prized toy, a miniature version of an ancient spider sewn by a Weaver. It had been repaired countless times but even now it had seen better days. Grimm pulled out a book pressed bloom. Age had sapped the vibrant yellow to something dull like tea-soaked paper. He held it delicately all the same. Neither asked about each other’s sacrifice, only quietly deposited them in the basin that shimmered brightly.</p><p>Hornet met Grimm’s gaze again, relaxing only he nodded slightly. Her voice came out strong and steady as she declared to the room, “I am honored and humbled by your gift and sacrifice. With this acceptance, yours and mine, I should declare to my King and Sire that there is no better partner than the one who stands before me now. I request he formally bind us.”</p><p>The Wyrm stood, face carefully neutral as he walked to their sides. With a nod to the Pure Vessel, he took Grimm and Hornet’s right hands and clasped them together. Hornet straightened while Grimm bent; both for his wife and Brumm who approached to place gold ornament on his left horn while the Pure Vessel placed one on Hornet’s right.</p><p>A wedding band for the both of them made out of thick, gold filigree. It covered the area from the tips of their horns to the side of their faces. It was a statement unique to older generations within Hallownest, and almost exclusive to those of a higher caste.</p><p>She had expected it to be heavy, but just like her dress she had been wrong. It went on smoothly and stayed put when it was fully in place. She murmured a quiet thanks to her sibling, mirrored by Grimm’s nod to Brumm. With their hands still clasped and wedding bands in place, the Pale King began to wind a single strand around their hands. His voice was soft and smooth like a stream as he recited his part, “As Our daughter declares it, so shall the Wyrm of Hallownest eternal formalize this union.”</p><p>The spider’s eyes watched the thread go round and round. Dread mounted and her fears circled in her mind. She felt lightheaded but her thoughts paid no need to that. There was no going back after this; at least in Deepnest divorce resulted in eating the offending party but there was no such thing in her father’s customs. That was not even to consider the fact that Grimm was a god. She saw his sister’s wrath, what would his hold if all her plans went south?</p><p>The Troupe Master watched her, taking note of the deep shaky breath and the way her fingers curled. He squeezed her hand gently, almost imperceptibly. When eyes sharply darted up to him, he smiled softly. It was not much but for that moment it quelled the princess’ fears if she ignored how bright his eyes had become.</p><p>A firm tug ensured the ribbon was secure. They stepped closer and the Pale King finished, “We have witnessed acceptance from both parties. Our heir born of Deepnest has chosen her match and from this day forward, it shall be as such. May this union remain from this era to the next.”</p><p>They were married. The thought bounced around in Hornet’s head. She hoped at some point it wouldn’t sound so foreign, but the point did not come when her sibling freed her hand or bumped their mask with hers. It did not come when the Pale King left her side after a moment’s hesitation, nor when Herrah came over.</p><p>The spider knew she held some conversation with her mother, but it had been swept under fog until she came to the realization everyone had filtered out beside her and her husband.</p><p>“You look ill,” he noted casually, but had taken up the space beside her. Did he mean to steady her? Her pride hissed at the thought of it and she stepped away, saying nothing of how the world tilted on its axis. “Surely you are not regretting this so soon.”</p><p>“No,” she breathed. The answer was genuine. “No. No, I’m just going to pass out now.”</p><p>“At least wait until we’re back in your room.” A grin split his face but quickly dropped when she hit the ground instead of replying.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Hornet woke, it was to darkness around her. </p><p>Alertness came back slowly like droplets of rain. She was in a bed atop exceedingly thick but plush covers. That told her she was still at the White Palace, in her own room. She hesitantly shifted and found she had been undressed and in one hand held half of the Kingsoul Grimm had gifted her. It was the only light in the room. </p><p>She curled her hand around it again and stretched the remaining sleep out of her. It was a relief she could do so without the metal hoop clinging to her, but the smell of flowers still hung in the air like a canopy. </p><p>Blinking, she attempted to take stock of her surroundings but abandoned it when scarlet eyes peeked open at the foot of her bed. His eyes didn’t meet hers. She huffed and charitably mumbled, “Do you really need to emulate a nightmare every time I sleep in your presence, Troupe Master?”</p><p>“I believe the title is husband,” he returned. A snap of his fingers and the lumafly lanterns were now filled with flames. He was still looking away. “How do you feel? I’m afraid to say I both didn’t take you seriously and then overreacted.”</p><p>“What exactly does that mean?” she snorted. “Why are you not looking at me?”</p><p>“I was unsure if you held the customs of your father when it came to a state of undress.”</p><p>“I hold no other Pale Court customs.” She sat up, glancing down at herself. Scars of improperly healed chitin stared back at her. “If you dislike seeing a scarred bug you can admit it.”</p><p>“It’s nothing of the sort. I was only trying to be courteous.” Though he did now look at her, it was with a frown as he skated across the imperfections of her shell. He himself had no such marks though one could easily guess why. “In regards to earlier, I may have caught you with my wings somewhat roughly. Apologies for any soreness.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” she dismissed.”How long have I been asleep? Did I miss anything?”</p><p>“Just an hour. Your kin came to check on you, but that was it.” He turned away from her to grab a tray she hadn’t noticed before. On it was a kettle and various snacks. He placed it on the bed then leaned over her, lifting her chin. “You know, I was rather certain I was going to be the reason you overheated.”</p><p>Her face went warm. He leaned closer with a grin, only stopped by her hand on his shoulder. He laughed. “Are you so worried I’m planning to consummate our marriage now?”</p><p>“What else would you be doing?” she asked, voice drawn high. Grimm didn’t try to move closer but he didn’t pull away either. “You even brought a tray over!”</p><p>“I’m just trying to check your temperature and make sure you’re not dehydrated,” he chided. His grin was not innocent. “What does that tray have to do with anything?”</p><p>“To save you from being eaten.”</p><p>“What?” It was the Troupe Master’s turn to look aghast. “You would eat me?”</p><p>“It’s a spider’s instinct,” she defended. “Surely a Higher Being isn’t unaware of such a thing.”</p><p>“I thought they were rumors. Propaganda to paint your species in a bad light. We’re <em> married </em> now.”</p><p>“Oh, I wouldn’t eat you now,” she said breezily with a wave of her hand. “You’ve already passed courtship standards. I would eat you after sex.”</p><p>“You’re lying.”</p><p>“I am not.”</p><p>“Hornet,” he stressed. “Would you really attempt to eat me?”</p><p>“I don’t know how strong the instinct is,” she evaded. It did her husband no peace of mind but she had no intention of telling him it was only triggered during the autumn. The news would be overshadowed when he learned the higher castes practiced it freely. Even if the King of Deepnest had lived, it would have been a temporary thing. “You have no reason to worry so long as our marriage isn’t consummated.”</p><p>“Somehow, that news doesn’t relieve me,” he sighed. “Well, I thank you deeply for the lesson but now I really must check your temperature.”</p><p>“You were serious about that?”</p><p>“Of course,” he grinned again. “It’s my duty to look after my wife, isn’t it?”</p><p>“...I suppose.”</p><p>The Troupe Master cupped her mask and pulled her forward, resting his forehead on hers. Her temperature rose once again. He was far too close to her and his own hands were far too warm. She hoped he couldn’t feel her embarrassment rising. </p><p>“Seems back to normal,” he announced, “Go on and eat. I’m needed back at my Troupe but I’ll come back once I’ve checked there.”</p><p>“Because you’ll always come back?” she tested. “That’s what you said at the ceremony.”</p><p>“Yes, that's right. Rest now, you and I will have much to do soon.”</p><p>“Like you telling me what you meant by ascension.”</p><p>Grimm pulled away from her and stood. His smile sat between cruel and pity. She detested either possibility. He bowed his head, “Of course, we’ll discuss our vows soon. Feel better, wife of mine.”</p><p>She watched him turn and leave for the door to her room. His hand closed around the knob and her stomach twisted into tight knots as he opened it to the Pale King standing there. Hornet knew before the words left the King.</p><p>“The Hollow Knight has started its final molt.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>WHEW... it's been awhile! I'm incredibly sorry for the gap between chapters, I had intended it to only be a month at the most. Unfortunately, I went into this with a very, very light outline that didn't work at all. So I set about creating one and wrangled with it for about a month before realizing I wasn't really getting anywhere. So out the outline went and time to write... only for quarantine burnout to hit me immediately after that decision.</p><p>I finally managed to get this chapter out even if I'm not super pleased with it. I'm sure it's obvious that four chapters for this fic aren't really feasible. I'm hoping for only a few more - nothing over ten chapters, for sure. I have two plots for this fic and I haven't really decided what route I want to go, nor the ending. Sorry to disappoint with all of this but I hope y'all will stick around!</p><p>tl;dr writing is hard and this fic is going to be longer now!</p>
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